Will the Real John Kennex Please Stand Up?
by GoWashTheLights
Summary: It's all in a day's work, catching the bad guys and saving everyone. John feels he has the hang of it...until he's the one in need of saving. On top of that, someone's made sure he has a replacement in his absence. Finished!
1. Chapter One

**Author Note:** I was watching the episodes through for the billionth time and had an idea while watching "Skin" (and some other episodes). So, we'll see where it goes from there.

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't own Almost Human, its characters, etc.

* * *

Chapter One

* * *

"You're in over your head."

The girl glanced hatefully at her boss. "Don't you think I know that?!" She snapped.

He only laughed. "Here I thought you had it all planned out..." He waved his hands to stress his point. He looked toward the door with the single window, noticing that the cop was starting to wake up. "Well, here's your big chance."

Clari turned around and saw it, too. John was snapping out of his daze, and looking around in confusion. She heaved a sigh and marched over to the door, throwing it open with enough force to startle John. He looked up at her, then froze as she pointed the gun in his face.

"...Who are you?"

"Don't talk!" She hissed. "This is all wrong! Your partner messed everything up, and now they're on their way. Now, they're going to lock me up."

He gave her the same look he'd given her every day - sympathy. At first it had been intrigue, because she was young and harmless in his eyes. Now he seemed to pity her, and those brown eyes told her that enough was enough. "Clari - " He began.

She moved the gun closer, and with embarrassment realized she had tears in her eyes. "Don't," she mumbled. "It was going to be perfect. If only you understood why, then you wouldn't look at me that way."

He lowered his gaze, as if to respect her request. "Look, I don't want to hurt you. No one does, in fact, and we can sort all of this out if you just let me go."

Clari wiped at her eyes, sniffling hysterically. She glanced at the man leaning on the door frame and shook her head. "This wasn't s-supposed to happen."

Her boss stepped into the room, and moved close to her. He placed his hands on her face, brushing his thumbs over her cheeks. "It's going to happen, unless you finish the job."

The room was silent for a moment. John watched anxiously as Clari sighed, nodded, and stepped away from the man. Without another word she raised the gun, and with a trembling hand she pulled the trigger.

* * *

Sandra Maldonado sat in her office, watching the scene play out in the other room. With the viral bomber out of commission, the detective was safe and sound, surrounded by his coworkers. There was relief in Valerie's eyes as she hugged John tightly. Others patted him on the shoulder, and even Richard was giving him a firm handshake. His face was indifferent, but in his eyes, he seemed glad to still have his rival around. Not one for too much attention, John finally seemed to excuse himself from everyone, and headed straight for Sandra's office. He knocked on the door, which she unlocked from her desk promptly. She stood, walked over to him, and silently she grabbed his shoulder. For a moment, she felt a loss of words.

"Hey, I'm alive, right?" He said.

She finally nodded. "Yeah. That's the important thing. Are you all right?"

He gave a half-smile. "I think the adrenaline's finally wearing off, yeah. You?"

Sandra shook her head. "Not quite. I think I know what will help, though. Have a seat."

They moved over to the couch, and Sandra pulled up the glass bottle she'd prepared - for whatever outcome would have been. Next were two glasses, which she filled carefully. The images in her head, the feelings, they were all still there, and she tried to steady her hands. She passed one of the drinks over to him.

"What are we drinking to?"

She took a seat, and raised her glass. "Winning."

He nodded after a moment. "Here's to winning."

The two talked for quite a while after that. John seemed to open up to her more than she'd expected - perhaps the scare of the whole thing was still in him - and she tried her best to comfort him. She was more proud of him than he would ever realize, and the protectiveness she felt over him was getting stronger. He still struggled with so much, with all the changes that had been made, and yet, he managed. She wouldn't want him anywhere else than here, right now. She asked about Dorian, who was taking a well-needed nap down with the other MX's. He'd been running on half a charge, something she hadn't realized was going on that day until later. From there, she'd made a mental note to talk to Detective Paul about a few bedside manners. Sometime during the conversation, John seemed to muster up the courage in asking Sandra a favor. It seemed the DRN was in need of his own place, and though his partner had already asked her, he now had a different idea in mind. "Would it be all right if he stayed with Rudy?"

"Rudy?"

"Yeah. I think the guy needs a friend there. If anyone's suffering from anything here, it's Rudy Lom. That way, Dorian won't be leaving here at night, the two can swap stories, be techy buffs together, I dunno."

Sandra laughed mulled it over for a moment. "Well, I'll have to check with him, but I think that's acceptable."

The hour was getting late, and the bottle empty, so John decided to call it a night. He slipped into his jacket and yawned, and thanked the Captain for the drinks. "I'll be here early tomorrow, to check on Dorian. Thanks again for that."

"You're welcome, John. Get some rest, you hear?"

John nodded, with a lazy smile on his lips. He gave a final nod to the few others still in the building, and headed home for the night. At his apartment, he dropped his keys onto the table by the door, locked up, and got out of his work clothes. By the time he reached his bed, he was so tired he didn't even remember to set his prosthetic on the charger. He lay in bed for a while, his mind still reeling with the day's events. He'd almost _died, _and here he was at home, like nothing had even happened. He would work tomorrow, with an attitude no different than normal, and he'd probably even enjoy Dorian's company, too. He was going to miss the quirks of a half-charged DRN, but Dorian's programmed personality was actually much more entertaining. At least the android had control over his misplaced commentary. John laughed to himself over the thought, and rubbed at his tired eyes. He turned onto his right side, and within a few minutes he was already dozing...

Something ripped him right from his sleep - a hand over his mouth. He struggled for a moment, but as he inhaled with surprise, he realized there was a cloth over his lips, doused with some...thing...

"...coming out of it."

"Should we take care of..."

"No. Just let him wake up. See? There we go, up and at 'em, kiddo!"

John opened his eyes, and before his vision could clear properly someone was slapping the side of his face. The room he was in was dark, lit only by a few lamps. A man stood over him, probably around his age, short blonde hair, with dark circles under his eyes. He smiled at John, then placed his hands on the cop's shoulders. "How are you? How many fingers am I holding up?"

John frowned blearily at him. "Who are you?"

The man shook his head. "I asked you a question. How many fingers am I holding up?"

Even through the haze, John felt his tolerance level seeping away. "None. Now, I asked _you _a question. Who are you?"

He only received a smile in response. The man tapped his face and stepped away. "I'll get to that in a minute. Since it seems like that charm of yours is working, and you answered correctly, everything is in order." The man waved his hand to someone, and in through an open doorway walked a young girl. She couldn't have been older than nineteen, and she looked distressed. She clutched at something close to her chest, and gave a wary look at the both of them. The man smiled again and nodded, motioning at John. "Go on, Clari. This is the last of it."

John looked up. His mind let him realize that he was cuffed to the seat he was in, helpless to whatever this Clari was going to do. Timidly, she walked up to him, and extended her right hand towards him. In it was a black box - a recording device, and she said, "Just do as I say, and you'll be fine." He only stared at her, curious as to what she was trying to do. What was he even doing here? Who were these people? He sat back, unsure of what to do next.

Clari seemed willing to help him with that. "When you see the red light, repeat what I say. Do you understand?" She waited for him to respond, and finally, he nodded. She did the same, with a trembling smile on her lips. "Good. I need you to say, 'I'm John Kennex.' Understand?"

John raised an eyebrow, and looked at the man now standing by the door. "If I don't?"

In response, the man walked over to them, and without hesitation pulled out a gun. He aimed it at John's left leg and pulled the trigger, and through the yelp of pain he said, "Then, you die. Clari _really _needs your cooperation right now, John. You being a cop, I thought you'd understand that."

John took a couple of deep breaths, hissing through his teeth. He decided to wise up and go along with it, hoping that someone had tracked him from the station by now. The troops would be on their way, and he'd be out of here in no time. He finally nodded and looked at the girl. She looked close to tears. "Fine, I'll do it."

Miles away, John's hope could not have been more misplaced. Sandra was on the phone with another branch, trying to confirm if they'd seen the Detective since the previous night. Sadly, they hadn't, but they would keep looking. Sandra thanked them for their time and hung up, then hurried into the other room where several people waited. Dorian was the first to notice her, and from the lights flickering on his face, he was still trying to locate his partner.

"Before you ask, no one's seen him. No one's picked up his signal, or a footprint, or anything. The group at John's house just wrapped everything up, and the suspects left a DNA bomb."

_I'm beginning to understand John's hatred for those, _Dorian thought. He glanced at Valerie, who shared a concerned look with him. "Is there anything we can do, Captain?" He asked. "Nothing seems to have appeared online like last night."

Sandra shrugged. "If it were that, at least we'd have something. He said he was heading straight home, and at some point, he must have; his car is still outside his apartment."

"Did he speak with anyone before leaving the building?"

"No. Honestly, the only thing I can tell everyone is to get back to work, keep investigating when you can, but stay focused on other cases until we have a lead. I'm sorry, Dorian," she added at his expression. "I know this is frustrating. For now, I can put you with Detective Stahl, or even Rudy, if you'd like."

Dorian smiled politely. Just an hour before, he'd been told that John had put in a good word towards his living arrangements - to stay with Rudy. His charging station was already down there, and though it wasn't what he'd had in mind, Dorian gave a silent 'thank you' to his now-missing partner. He only wished that there was something that could be done. "I'd like that, Captain." He turned to Valerie. "If you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask. I won't be far, as always, and any news on John will be greatly appreciated."

She gave him a smile of her own. "Thanks, Dorian. I just hope that we find him soon."

Days passed. Everyone did as they were told, to keep working, but in their minds lingered the worry, the anxiety. Every day, Sandra was on the phone, and each time, she'd get the same answer. Missing notices were put up, people were constantly being stopped in the streets for questioning. Not even undercover work was going to help, because no one had an idea of who'd done this. Sandra found herself glancing at John's desk every time she passed it, feeling the emptiness it seemed to radiate. A picture of his girlfriend still sat by the computer, and it made wonder if Insyndicate had something to do with the case. If they'd kidnapped him because of unfinished business, Sandra could work around that. She stared at the picture a moment longer, then nodded and turned in the opposite direction.

* * *

_"I'll see you tonight, hon. I picked up a movie I thought looked good, if you want."_

Danielle smiled. She switched her phone to her other ear as she balanced her purse in her hands, and fumbled for her keys. "That sounds great. Listen, I'll call you on my break, okay? I'm running super late and I can feel Allison breathing down my neck from here."

Rick laughed. _"Sounds serious. I love you, I'll talk to you later."_

"Bye, love you, too." She hung up, locked her car, and hurried into the bank. Her boss was going to have it up to the ceiling with her for being late again, and she didn't have a particularly good excuse. As she walked in, a picture reminded her of that fact; a cop had been missing for a week now, and the news told Danielle and everyone else tuning in that nothing had been found. She remembered the guy's face from before, when some crazy man had come in demanding money. He'd gotten it, ran off, and the cops had showed up not long after. That Detective had been there to ask her questions, but she hadn't been there that day. He seemed like a decent guy, and felt pity on him for whatever had caused his disappearance. Danielle had just clocked in when someone called her name.

"Danielle?"

She winced. It was Allison, and as predicted, she sounded upset. Turning, Danielle faced her boss with a strained look. "I'm so sorry - "

Allison held up a hand. "I don't want to hear it. I don't want to know why or how, just get to work. One more time, and you're done."

Instead of arguing, Danielle only nodded. She moved around the teller desks, took her seat, and kept her mouth shut. She needed the job, but she realized she also needed to take better care of herself. She made a mental note to use that organizer her mother had so kindly bestowed upon her for Christmas. She heaved a deep, calming sigh, logged into her computer, and threw the confrontation behind her. Today was going to be a different day, and she was going to prove that she could handle what she needed to for Allison.

Just as she finished her mental pep talk, someone walked in. It wasn't busy, and she was the only one at the front. "Now's my chance," she whispered, and stood up to greet the customer with a -

A gun.

Before she could utter a word, the man holding it hushed her by holding a finger to his mouth. As Danielle looked at him, her mouth opened a little and she raised her hands. She only hoped that someone could see and would trip the alarm. _This can't be happening. Not to me, not here, not again. _"C-Can I help you?"

The man smiled pleasantly, and Danielle remembered that it was the same as before. "Hi," he said, "I'm John Kennex. I'm going to have to ask for your cooperation right now."

* * *

_So, there you have it, first chapter down. I feel like it's really short and the scenes are a little squished...I'm just used to writing longer scenes, but I dunno. Thanks for reading!_


	2. Chapter Two

**Author Note:** Sheesh, thank you SO MUCH for the followers already, and the favorites! I feel loved! I'm glad everyone likes it :)

* * *

Chapter Two

* * *

His fingers began to twitch. Next, his eyes, though still closed. The mainframe began to start up, with the confirmation that the charge was complete. His eyes opened, and as he looked around the room, he was glad to be the only one. Dealing with the others was something he never wanted to experience again. Dorian pushed himself away from the charging station, straightened his shirt, and headed into the other room. Rudy was already there for work, crouching habitually over one of his latest projects.

"Good morning, Doctor Lom."

The greeting startled the man, and he looked over his shoulder. He smiled once he realized he wasn't in some sort of trouble...or danger. "Oh, good morning, Dorian. Sleep well?"

"I did, thank you. I have to say, the benefits of staying here have proven themselves. The lack of commotion from the other MX's is enjoyable, as is your company."

Rudy smiled at the lengthy reply. "Good, good. You know, it's nice having a DRN around that actually talks to you. Listen, I was up early this morning working on this - what do you think?"

Dorian took a step forward to see, then stopped. He looked down only to have a pair of green eyes staring back at him. It was a grey cat, but it remained still. "What is it?"

"Meet Napoleon. I'll have him up and running soon, but if I can get it approved, this should help in finding our dear Mr. Kennex."

The DRN stifled a laugh, deciding not to mention anything to the kind scientist. "Why a cat?"

"Why not? Cats are lithe, durable - especially this one - and can get anywhere they need to. I did some research and found an unusually high concentration of stays in the stranger, more dangerous parts of town. Wherever John is, this little one won't stop until he's found. I'll just need something of the Detective's in order to program the search party accurately."

"Why is that?"

A excited smile was quickly suppressed. "Well, even though _we _can't seem to locate him, if the cat gets close enough, it'll pick up on John's bio-readings - heartbeat, neural patterns, all that - no matter what. There's a retinal camera, so we'll be able to see him, as well."

Dorian placed a hand on Rudy's shoulder. "I admire your diligence. It's worried me that, despite the efforts of the scanners here, and myself, John is nowhere to be found. This is a hopeful turn in the case, so thank you."

Rudy gave a shy nod, looking at the cat again. "I made him a tabby, since any other color could seem suspicious - if our criminals are smart, that is."

"I believe they are," Dorian replied. "They've taken some drastic steps to accomplish their task. I'll come by later today to see how things are coming. Do you need anything, Doctor?"

Rudy waved a dismissive hand, then placed it in one pocket. "No, no, I'm fine. I just...hope we find him soon."

Thankfully, the Captain seemed to be right on board over Rudy's development. "I think it's the best lead we've had so far. Let Rudy know that he can go ahead with it, and if he needs finances for more supplies, I'd be willing to take care of that."

Valerie, who'd been Dorian's partner for a week now, was equally as relieved. "I'm so glad. I hope he's all right; I mean, we haven't received any ransom calls, or notes from whomever is responsible..."

Sandra shook her head. "It'll be all right, Valerie. John is smart and will be able to take care of himself. He knows how to keep himself alive, and I'm sure he has some sort of a plan."

Dorian looked at the Captain. "How are you doing?" He asked knowingly.

She felt caught, and only sighed. "I admit, I'm just as worried. However, I mean what I say, because I know John. It's just frustrating that only a week ago he was in just a bad a situation, and that probably put him on the grid. I've spoken already to Reinhardt, the only suspect we have, and he won't admit to anything."

Valeried frowned. "You think this has something to do with Insyndicate? I thought we didn't know anything about that."

Again, Sandra looked guilty. "We don't. However, he's the only one involved who's in custody. If he slips up on anything, I'll be all over it. Concerning that, I'd appreciate it if the two of you kept this between us."

Both Dorian and Valerie were willing to comply. The news was unsettling, to say the least, but no one else needed the added stress. Sandra dismissed them afterward to handle their assignment, concerning apparent financial fraud that had been going around. Several people had made complainant calls that the ATMs they were visiting was taking more than they were. Detective Paul was leading the investigation, and already out and about with his partner to question the victims. Valerie took her seat at her desk and looked over the file another time. "Where do you think it's going?"

Dorian shook his head, sitting next to her. "Still unclear. The money hasn't been deposited yet, and when it is taken, the records seem to be erasing themselves. Or the coding is being scrambled, though it seems unlikely. The ATMs show no indication of having been tampered with."

The Detective sighed, and let the file settle onto the desk. She looked at the picture next to it, the missing poster for John. "I'm so worried, Dorian."

For a moment, Dorian calculated his answer. The _normal_ response was always to give statistics, but he sensed that with Valerie, she needed something else. "We'll find him soon. Like Captain Maldonado said, John is smart. He's managed to stay alive with everything he's come up against, and not just since he's been back. He's a smart man when it comes to survival. I'm sure he'll appreciate the efforts we've given to his search."

It seemed to do the trick. Valerie smiled as her fingers ran over the picture. "You're right, Dorian. He'll be okay, wherever he is."

Within the hour, everyone's prayers were suddenly answered - though not how they'd expected. Valerie answered her phone to an agitated Detective Paul, and from the commotion on the other end, something serious was going on. "Richard? I can't hear you - no, I...what?" She caught the attention of Sandra from her office, and waved her hand frantically. "What about John?"

_"He was here, the son of a..."_ He was drowned out by a passing ambulance. _"Hold on, already!"_

"What's going on?" Sandra asked. Valerie had her hand pressed to her other ear, concentration etched onto her face. The Captain looked to Dorian for an answer.

"From what I can hear," he replied, "He saw John. It sounds like another branch, as well as a few ambulance vehicles, are there."

_"Can you hear me, Valerie?" _Paul asked.

"Okay, now I can, yes. What is it?"

_"There was a huge robbery at the South Point Bank."_

Valerie's mouth dropped. "The same as last week? Why so popular?"

_"That's what I'm going to figure out. Several people have been injured, so we have the medical team already on it. The witnesses will be brought over in about half-an-hour."_

"Does it have to do with the ATMs?"

_"No,"_ Paul replied, sounding vexed._ "You wouldn't believe who the cameras caught leading the entire thing, though. Kennex was there, waving that stupid gun around like a mad man."_

Silence hit the three of them, like a ton of bricks. Dorian had put himself on speaker phone, so Sandra could hear. The Captain waved her hands a little, the confusion evident in her voice. "Richard, talk to me, what do you mean?"

_"Sandra, I couldn't be more clear - John was here. He threatened one of the tellers with a gun, apparently a few men in masks arrived afterward, and that's all I know."_

"...All right, then. Collect as much surveillance as you can. Did John happen to leave a paper trail?"

_"No idea. I can have someone sent right now, if you'd like, but from what the witness said, he'd disappeared before the robbery ended." _ He paused again. _"Listen, I have to let you go, Captain, I'm being called over by Andersen."_

That was the Captain of the precinct on the east side, so the priorities had changed. Valerie hung up the phone, then stared at it for a long moment. Finally she glanced up at Dorian. "...Is he kidding? John..."

Sandra began to place, a hand set onto her forehead. "Okay. Well, at least we know he's alive. We'll piece everything together as soon as Richard gets back, and it's going to get sorted out. Let's just keep our heads right now; Dorian, I need you to let Rudy know about this. As soon as we get a trail, we need his camera to follow it."

Dorian nodded and turned on his heel. _John, _he thought, _what is wrong with you, man?_

* * *

"Wake up, Kennex."

John jumped from sleep, opening his eyes immediately. He looked up toward the door, then sat up warily. "Just when you think you can catch a few..."

Tyson smiled. John still doubted that was his real name, but the blonde had insisted to call him that. Clari was with him, a tray of food in her hands. She gave John a polite smile and moved over to sit next to him. They'd kindly given him a bed, but he was unfortunately still cuffed by one hand. It gave him limited freedom for basic functions, but his other arm was starting to ache from the imprisonment. He'd tried asking for a switch every day, but Tyson had denied him that. "I don't want you out of those cuffs for even a second," he'd explained.

"Aren't you going to thank Clari for breakfast, John?"

The cop shook himself from thought. "Oh. Uh, thanks, Clari."

She looked down and nodded, setting the tray on the bed covers. Then she glanced at Tyson. "Do you need any help today?"

The man looked at her smugly. "Don't try to be cute. You just keep our friend company until he's done eating, then get back to work."

Clari nodded, looking a little irritated, but she didn't get a chance to reply before Tyson left the room. She sighed quietly and took a seat on the floor. When John didn't move from his spot, she looked at him with the same expression. "Hey, eat up. I worked hard on that, you know."

John didn't reply, but he moved the tray onto his lap. The one good thing about being a hostage in this case was the food; he'd been provided two meals a day, warm and filling enough to keep his energy up. Today included a biscuit, eggs, and a couple of slices of bacon. He secretly missed his usual preference of Asian cuisine, but that required the balance of two hands, and he didn't want to press his luck. "Thank you," he finally mumbled. "This is good."

Clari's eyes moved back to him. "Honestly, I didn't try _that _hard - that's easy to make. I just meant, I worked hard to convince Tyson to let you eat. He'd rather you starve, so be careful."

John shrugged good-naturedly. "I think I've been a pretty well-behaved hostage, don't you think?"

The girl hid a smile and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I guess so. How's your leg doing?"

John fought the urge to roll his eyes. Tyson seemed to have a flair for the dramatic, and had shot John without a second thought to get what he wanted. Clari had been the one to mend it, but it still hurt. "It's fine, now."

"Okay. Are you sleeping well?"

"Fair enough, I suppose." He must have been hungrier than he thought, because before he realized it he was finished with his meal. A little disappointed, he stood and grabbed his mug off the sink ledge. The tap water was the only refreshment he was provided, and since it hadn't killed him, he continued to force himself to drink it. He took a grateful swig and cleared any remaining bits of food from his mouth, then sat. "It's rare you stick around. Why don't we get to know each other?"

She shot him a conflicted look. "You know I won't tell you anything."

Again, he shrugged. "I know. I just want to talk to you. Can you...tell me about yourself, what you like to do?" When she didn't reply, he decided to be bold. "Besides hanging around a criminal, that is."

Clari stood after a moment, and raised an eyebrow at him. "Charm won't win me over," she replied, taking a seat next to him on the bed," but since you wolfed that food, I guess I have time."

John smiled and nodded, making himself comfortable. He'd spent every waking moment trying to understand the situation, and he was beginning to piece things together. The first and most obvious detail was that Clari was working for Tyson, seemingly against her will. Her discomfort around the guy was apparent, and John wondered if she was compromised. Was someone she knew in trouble? Did she owe him money? John hoped the details would reveal themselves soon. "How old are you, Clari?"

"...Twenty-two."

John was genuinely surprised. "You're kidding. I thought you had to be at least eighteen - not over twenty, though."

"I get that a lot," she admitted. She checked her watch, then sighed. "Two more questions, if you got 'em."

"Let's see. What's your favorite color?"

Clari seemed to think he was joking, but when he didn't say otherwise she only shook her head. "It's blue."

John nodded. "That's a good color. Okay, let's see...how many siblings to you have?"

In a way, it was both the wrong and right question. Clari didn't answer right away. She stood up, collected the tray, and moved to the door. Then she turned back and looked straight at him. "Just the one, my brother. My parents...aren't around anymore."

There was one answer. _Tyson, or whatever his name is, is her brother. _Now that he thought of it, they looked alike. Even though their hair colors were a stark contrast - she was a brunette - they had the same eyes. He gave her a sympathetic look.

"I'll be back later tonight, okay?" She continued. "Just leave your leg there on the bed and I'll come get it for a reboot." Then she was gone.

John sighed, his hand moving unconsciously over the synthetic. As quiet as he'd been, the one request he'd made was for his leg to be recharged as needed. They didn't seem to have, or be using, a proper charger, and the power often died quickly. He was left with a heavy synthetic after that, unable to even stand and stretch his aching muscles. He was starting to feel tempted to just leave it off, to conserve power, but he had to be prepared. At any time he could get the chance to bolt, and both legs were needed for that. He settled back onto his pillow, closed his eyes, and continued to think.


	3. Chapter Three

**Author Note:** So, thanks for the added followers! I seriously appreciate them!

* * *

Chapter Three

* * *

The four cops stood around the screen. There were mixed feelings of anxiety, disappointment, and confusion, instead of the relief that should have been at the sight of one of their own. John could be seen hurrying out of view, a smile still on his face. The sound of shooting drowned out the terrified screams of those still inside the bank, and finally, the recording was put on pause.

Paul set the remote onto the desk, shaking his head. "There you have it."

"I just don't understand it," Sandra replied, closing her eyes. "In the time he's been back, he's never shown these kinds of tendencies."

The Detective gave her a look. "Tendencies? The guy led a heist and everyone got away with it."

She didn't know what to say. Turning, she found Valerie heading their way. "What do you have?"

Valerie sighed as she reached them. "It's not good. Four people wounded - two of them hospitalized, and one man died before they could get him into the ambulance. We have a team collecting evidence now that things are calming down a bit."

"And John?" Sandra pressed.

Valerie only shrugged. "We'll know soon enough. Rudy says he's almost finished with the tracking device, so he'll let me know. Dorian is with him, as well." Again, she sighed, looking down.

"Is he okay?"

"Well, he watched the surveillance from Rudy's lab, and...he's not too happy about it. It doesn't make sense to him _why_ John is doing this."

Sandra raised her eyebrows and nodded. "Well, that makes all of us. Richard," she turned, facing the seething cop, "Keep in touch with Andersen, see how the victims are doing. Do we have a witness ready to talk to us?"

Paul looked over at the screen one last time and muttered something. Then he replied, "Yeah, we should, they brought her in about ten minutes ago. Do you want me to start the questioning?"

The Captain considered it. Richard Paul was an exceptional police officer, but his enmity towards John was already strong on a good day. Paul was angry, and his feelings would get in the way. "I'll take care of it. Why don't you go out and get some fresh air, okay? This has been a stressful week."

He wasn't happy about it, but he nodded. "Fine. He just better hope he doesn't bring his party here, because I might have to kill him." He stalked off, down the hall and toward the front doors. Sandra looked at Valerie, who seemed to be lost in thought.

"Why don't you keep Dorian and Rudy some company? Look through the next surveillance tapes to see if you can find anything?"

Valerie smiled. "Three heads are better than one."

The witness was found sitting in the lobby area, a warm drink in her trembling hands. She'd been crying and looked tired, but stable. Sandra introduced herself and took a seat. "What's your name?"

"It's...Danielle," the girl replied. "Um, my husband doesn't know I'm here; could I call him?"

"We'll take care of that now, and see if he can come to meet you when we're done. I'd like to ask you a few questions right now, if you're up to it."

Danielle nodded as she took a sip. Sandra patted her shoulder, and the two stood and moved into a quiet room. Two MX's stood guard outside, for the girl's sake. "What do you want to know?" She asked.

Sandra took a moment to collect her thoughts. John was usually here to handle the questioning, an ironic turn of events. "Tell me about the man who came in. Did he threaten you?"

"Not...exactly. He asked for my cooperation when he walked in. He said his name was John Kennex - he's that cop who was missing, isn't he?"

The Captain hesitated, then nodded. "Yes. I'm sorry that you've had to experience this - I don't understand how this came to pass, but we're going to help you. Is there anything you can tell me about what happened next?"

Danielle seemed to replay the events in her head. "A-At first, I didn't know what to say, so he repeated himself and got closer. The gun was close to my face, so I decided to help him. He asked me to empty the registers, and when my coworkers noticed something was wrong, he did asked them. After that, three more guys came in and started shooting, and..." She shook her head. "They shot my boss. I don't even know if she's going to make it." She looked up at Sandra with fresh tears in her eyes. "The worst part is, he was smiling the whole time, like, it made him happy. There was something so wrong about it; why did he do it?"

_John, if we find you, I might just let Richard do what he wants, _Sandra thought. She reached out and placed a hand over Danielle's squeezing it softly. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. We're going to do everything we can to figure this out. The police officer you met was not the same one I know - he's a good man, and there's a reason this is happening. For now, I can have one of our MX officers keep an eye on you and your husband, for safety. Just go home and get some rest, okay?"

She walked Danielle from the room, and back into the lobby to wait for her husband. When Sandra returned to the main area, she found Valerie and Dorian heading her way - with a cat in the DRN's arms. A little thrown, Sandra met them with a curious frown. "What is that doing here?"

Dorian smiled. "This is Napoleon - Rudy's tracking device."

"...Leave it to him to come up with something like that. How does it work?"

Valerie moved over to John's desk, thought a moment, then grinned. "It's funny, acting almost like a dog on a hunt." She returned with an abandoned coffee thermos that John had left, and held it in front of the feline. It's eyes seemed to flicker, and silently it bound from Dorian's arms and onto the floor. It paused, flicking its tail, and continued its prowl. "It won't stop until it finds John, which should be easy since he was just in the area."

_"Dorian?" _The DRN suddenly heard. It was Rudy, so he placed him on speaker.

"Go ahead, Rudy."

_"It looks like Napoleon is on his way out the door. I've set his trail heading straight for the bank, so he should have John's scent, so to speak. Which, honestly, doesn't make sense - he's a cat - "_

"Thank you, Doctor Lom," Dorian replied, sensing a ramble coming on. "I'll keep an eye on the system, as well. Thank you for finishing it so quickly."

_"Well, unfortunately, it's not done quite yet. Nothing major, I just haven't installed a speaker into it. Once it finds him, I won't be able to exactly communicate with John, to let him know we've found him."_

Dorian frowned. "I can work on something for that, don't worry."

Sandra turned to Valerie. "How are the tapes?"

"Well, they didn't show anything different, however, we did find something else - a pattern. The evidence team called and said that they found powder from another DNA bomb on the carpeting, and on the door handle."

Sandra made the connection after a beat. "Just like in John's apartment."

Valerie nodded. "Yeah. There wasn't as high a concentration, so the team might find something with a little cleaning. I'm wondering if these are the same people who kidnapped him, and now they're using him - to give him a bad image."

"Well, it's working," Sandra replied, thinking of her conversation with Danielle. The details didn't make sense - neither did John's behavior - but at least they had something.

* * *

Clari stirred the soup, then checked the timer again. It was about done, so she flipped the burner to a lower setting. Tyson was drumming his fingers on the table, waiting impatiently. "Will you stop that, please?" She grumbled at him.

"No. It's been a long day, and I'm starving. If you keep giving me attitude, your little boyfriend goes to bed without a meal tonight."

Clari sighed, then turned and glared at him. "He's not my boyfriend."

Tyson shrugged in disagreement. "You sure? It's been only a week and you're spending an awful lot of time with him. Don't start getting a crush now - did you forget that this was your idea?"

The girl rolled her eyes, busying herself with dinner. "Yeah, I got it. This whole thing has taken a long time, so maybe I'm...not so mad anymore. I just figured he'd want some company every now and then."

Tyson laughed. "What, before we kill him? If we do it now, like I said we should, this wouldn't be a problem. Is that finished already?" He nodded his head toward the pot, and Clari whipped around. She took one of the bowls she'd placed, scooped the contents into it, and set it aside. With the next she did the same, and placed them onto a tray. With the final bowl, she filled it, turned around, and practically threw it onto the table before her brother. It sloshed onto the wood surface.

"Listen to me," she hissed. "We'll kill him, but when I say we will. Any company has been better than yours, lately, and I've had about as much as I can take. Just keep earning the money, and we'll be fine."

She grabbed the tray and ignored Tyson's hateful glare. Then she stormed off, leaving him with his spilled meal. He shook his head, stood up, and replaced some of the soup. He found a spoon and sat back at the table, then started to eat. Every once in a while, he would glance at the "cop" standing in the corner, in its homemade charging station. The real John Kennex was down in his cell, getting a pretty fair treatment for a killer. Every time Tyson looked at his face, the memories came back. It had taken nearly two years, but he and his sister were going to pay Kennex back for getting their parents and little sister killed. Ever since that raid that had been held in their apartment complex - their _home _- the siblings had been preparing everything. On the calender, the date three days from now was marked with a red pen. It was the anniversary of the attack, and Tyson was itching to exact his vengeance. He still had different ideas of how it could be done. Shooting him would be too easy, but maybe if he went out with a bang, it would be more justified.

After Tyson finished his dinner, he headed into the other room and crouched down onto the floor. He lifted the panel, and inside was the safe. He hit the button to raise it, then pressed his hand over the bio-scanner. The door opened with a low 'whoosh'; Inside were the finances that had been collected for the past eighteen months. The complex was still half a mess, and with the tenants unable to help remodel, the robo-Kennex was going to help with that. Some of the money had gone into actually building the android, but it had turned out too perfectly. With simple, patient handy work and a lot of black-market trading, each piece had been placed since the plan had first been developed. Through her grief, Clari had wished the worst to happen to Kennex, and Tyson had been more than willing to help her. He couldn't understand now why she was showing him any compassion, but it worried her brother. If she was going to get cold feet, he would have to put her in a well-secured room until the task was over. He closed the safe, moved over to his cot, and went to sleep.

The next morning, a new location was programmed into the Kennex bot - a fundraiser for a school on the west block of the city. It was closer this time, and getting the money would be more convenient. The crew showed up around two o' clock, got their gear, and Tyson started up the android in the meantime. At his control panel, he watched as the eyes opened, then as its head twitched to life in an unnatural way. It blinked, stood, and waited. It wouldn't say anything until Tyson put on the headset, but he moved it out the door, watched it through the camera installed into its eyes, and had it get into the car. He linked himself in with the voice box, gave the o-k to the others, and the van drove out into the streets. The fundraiser was in full swing, according the time, so there would be plenty of cash already deposited. Drew, Tyson's lead man, had spied the day before and confirmed that the money was being held inside the school. Around two-thirty, the van stopped. Drew got out to check the area, and for a few minutes the other end was quiet. Finally, he returned and grabbed his gun from the back seat.

"How is it?" Tyson asked.

Drew looked at the camera and gave a thumbs up. _"All good. There's tons of people out there."_

"Good. When I give the first shot, that's your cue. Let's be in and out in five."

Everyone nodded, and Tyson let the bot out onto the street. As it walked, a few passersby gave him odd, worried looks. He knew it was inevitable - the news had shown a pretty decent picture of Kennex from two days ago, and he was sure that most people already knew him from before that. The work John had done since returning had received good attention; sadly, now it was time that the attention turned for the worse. The bot turned the corner, located the fundraiser on the lawn across the street, and pulled out its gun. It marched right through the crowd, and found someone right in the middle of a transaction. At the cop's arrival, the man raised his hands, and the the people around him gasped and moved away. Tyson turned on the emotional recognition, starting with a smile.

"Hello," he stated. "I'm John Kennex. I'm going to have to ask for your cooperation."

The man nodded, and off-screen, someone murmured, _"Call the police!"_

_"...I think he _is _the police! That's the guy from the bank."_

Tyson laughed a little, as did the bot. He had it raise its gun, and it fired off the signal for the others. Within seconds there was chaos, people tripping over each other, people grabbing their children, car wheels screeching off down the road. Drew and the others arrived, so the android was set to run back to its creator. No one got in its way - just tried to duck or move to the side - and finally it slipped into an alley and through the back streets. It returned within the next few minutes, slowed to a walk, opened the door, and stopped outside of Tyson's room. Before opening the door, Tyson checked the GPS on the van - it was moving out. "Did everything go all right?" He asked. He could hear the bot speaking as well, and turned it off.

_"Yeah, we have it. It was close, though - there were sirens just as we hit thirteenth. The cops might have been waiting for us."_

A setback, but again, expected. The division Kennex worked for was smart, so they probably had a few tricks ready. "No worries. Just ditch the car along tenth west, in the garage, and take the south trail. Split up if you have to, just don't get caught or leave anything for them to find."

_"Gotcha."_

Tyson moved away from the monitor, opened the door behind him, and found the android standing still, its eyes dark and lifeless. He set it back into the charging station, shut it down entirely, and waited for the guys to arrive. When they did, they were breathless but successful, with the large sack of money with them. Tyson smiled, patted each of them on the shoulder as they entered, and hurried to deposit the money.


	4. Chapter Four

**Author Note: Here's another chapter! Obviously :) Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter Four

* * *

_"Today we have some unsettling footage, of what seems to be one of now_ two_ crimes taking place in certain financial organizations. Live at the scene is Darrell Klein, we'll go to him now."_

"Yes, Cameron, I'm here at United High School, which has just been involved in a shooting." The reporter stood in front of an overturned table, and behind him, the camera showed several people picking up the disaster around them. "The school administrators, the faculty and several students were in charge of a local fundraiser for the hospital, when reports came in of a man arriving with a pistol. He requested that everyone 'cooperate', and after that, fired a single bullet into the air. Not long after that, several more men arrived with guns, they took the money for the fundraiser, and took off just as the police were arriving."

_"Now,"_ the reporter at the station interjected,_ "is there anything on the suspect?"_

Darrell was seen nodding after a pause. "Yes, he's been identified. There was someone here recording at the time - one of the students - and they've agreed to let us show the footage of the occurrence. We'll play that in a moment, but we can say beforehand that the man was current police officer John Kennex, who's been reported missing for nearly two weeks now. The branch he works for has issued a statement, which they stand by - that he turned up missing on the nineteenth of this month and been unable to locate until two days ago. He first was seen at the South Point Bank, and again here, both times leading the robberies. He's made no contact with the station or any of his colleagues, friends, or family."

_"Any information on the other suspects?"_

"Unfortunately, no. The police are going to view the footage shortly to add to their investigation, but at this time, we don't have any more information on them."

_"Thank you, Darrell."_ The screen changed, and those tuning in saw only the station again. The reporter looked somber as he continued._ "We've received word that three people were injured - the principal of the school, who was first approached, and one of the students and her father. He is said to be in critical condition, but his daughter received only minor wounds. We're going to run that_ _video now, but be warned - the footage is somewhat disturbing."_

That portion of the story ended after that, and the clip was played. It was being broadcast all throughout the police station, and no one was saying a word. Down in the labs, Rudy and Dorian watched with heavy hearts as they saw John. Again with a gun, he carried a quiet exchange with the principal, then shot a single bullet into the sky. The camera jolted, the man holding it yelped in fear, and he ducked down behind a set of garbage cans. The image was shaky, but it focused on John until he bolted, down the street and out of sight. The camera tried to capture a few more moments, and finally it cut out. Rudy turned off the screen, sat down, and sighed deeply. Napoleon hopped back in his lap, and he stroked the fur absent-mindedly. "I just...don't understand. I programmed the system to find John, and for a while it seemed to be working..." Once he'd sensed there was a malfunction, he'd called the cat back to the lab; nothing was wrong with it.

Dorian frowned, watching the video again. He watched his partner's expression, his mannerisms, and his escape. He realized that something was off and did a few calculations. Then he looked at Rudy. "Something's wrong with him."

Rudy opened his eyes in mock surprise. "You're tellin' me, mate. You know, I refuse to believe he's doing this on his own. Maybe he's under the influence, or they're trying to blackmail him, which doesn't really - "

"Rudy, pardon me. I meant, there is something wrong with how he's acting. I can't tell from the angle, but his face seems...unusually lifeless. Also, I've seen John when he runs, and because of his leg, he doesn't run that fast - he can't."

"Maybe...someone gave him a boost?"

Dorian shook his head. "No. His physical leg wouldn't compensate that much. I have a theory - an unlikely one - but if I can get close enough to him, I could confirm it."

Rudy paused, trying to understand. "What, are you...are you saying that it isn't John?"

Dorian nodded. "You may be right - someone might be trying to blackmail him. It looks to be a ploy, and I believe that someone has created another 'John Kennex'. An android, better said."

Rudy stood, a mix of horror and excitement on his face. "Someone built their own John Kennex, to steal money, shoot people, and run a good name through the mud? This is...I can't even believe this."

Others had a had time believing it as well. Sandra had an eyebrow raised through the entire explanation, and even laughed a little at the end. "Why would someone do that?"

"I'm not sure. As I said, if I can get a chance to be close to him when he strikes again, I could scan him to see if he's synthetic or not."

Valerie stepped in. "How are we going to pull it off? There's been no pattern in their attack points, really."

"I'm sure people are being careful on where they keep their money," Paul replied. He was tired, frustrated, and ready to go around town until he found John himself. "They're cancelling plans, like fundraisers, parties, anywhere there's going to be a lot of cash collected."

"We could set something up," Dorian offered. "Or contact one of those groups you mentioned. They would set it up as planned, but we could have a team watching out of sight."

Sandra wasn't sure. "It's risky. People are still going to be in the area, in danger, and like Valerie said, we have no idea where they're going next. The van we found was unregistered, abandoned, and we couldn't track it anywhere. Whoever these guys are, they're smart."

Paul ran a hand over his head. Suddenly he had an idea. "Well, we can't just wait for people to get hurt again, or killed. Issue a deal, a compromise, over the news."

"Richard, I know you're upset, but provoking the criminals isn't a good idea."

"Why not? This is Kennex! He's not going to turn down a challenge from anyone, he's too proud."

For once, everyone seemed to agree with him. They were quiet for a few moments, balancing their options. Finally, Sandra shook her head. "Why don't we call around, find out who had plans to earn some money. The party responsible might pick up on it, but if they take the bait, I'm willing to let Dorian test his theory. If it doesn't work, I'll try your plan, Richard. We need to end this, right now."

* * *

_"Point A, in position."_

_"Confirmed. Point B, also in position."_

_"C and D, confirmed."_

Sandra nodded to herself, then to Dorian and Detective Paul. They did the same, then headed out of the station and into the cover vehicle that had been provided. For the past two days, the Captain had made a few phone calls and done some research, finding a few possible locations to work with. The one they were heading to was another fundraiser, and mixed in with regular citizens was a handful of undercover cops. They would be ready for an heist, at least to protect those around them. It wasn't a perfect plan, but it was enough to get a foot in the door.

On the way, the two cops were quiet. Dorian had never worked with Paul, and Paul preferred his MX over the DRN. He'd been around when John hadn't, when the last of the models were being decommissioned. He hadn't really ever thought he would see one of them working again, and now it just seemed weird. Finally, Paul cleared his throat. "Listen, I want to make something clear. I don't know if I agree with the whole Robo Cop thing - that's a time-consuming project, and Kennex hasn't been back that long. If it is him, and he's responsible for getting one more person shot, I won't hesitate. I get that he's your partner, but he has to be stopped."

To his surprise, Dorian gave a half-nod. "I understand, Detective. However, I see a win-win scenario in this case. I'm stronger than a human, and I can easily stop John from harming others. If it's an android, I can hack the system and shut it down - even track it to the source. I encourage you to use caution before doing anything you may regret."

Paul didn't reply. _Like I'd ever regret shooting that moron, _he thought. A part of him had been starting to respect John before this started; now he just wished the guy was still in a coma. The world had been none the wiser, to be honest. "We'll see, Dorian," he finally replied. "I still have a responsibility to innocent bystanders, to myself, and to the precinct."

They parked in the shade, and observed the scene. The donations being given today were for an animal shelter, with a few police officers securing the finances. Dorian busied himself on scanning the people walking around, to see if John was somewhere among them. He knew he would have his answer before the day was out - he didn't doubt his own abilities - but he was concerned over Detective Paul's reasoning. Dorian had clearly explained two alternatives to shooting John, and yet, Paul was adamant over serving justice. His relationship with John was strained, and whenever they were together, a fight could be expected. They constantly looked at each other with disdain, and it didn't make sense to Dorian.

"Is the creep hiding out here?" Paul asked.

Dorian didn't reply right away. He briefly looked at the Detective with a frown, then shook his head. "I don't see him, yet. Like you said previously, John is my partner, and I'd appreciate a little respect for that. We don't exactly don't know the story, and he isn't here to defend himself."

Paul gave him a critical look. "Dorian, I stand by what I said. I don't think someone could have built their little doll so far under the radar, and have that much detail put into it. We've checked into a lot of back street dealers, collected testimonials, and nothing has been uncovered. Something you don't understand is how Kennex was before his accident."

"What do you mean?" Dorian asked, but he kept his eyes on the event; it was getting busier, meaning action could strike at any time.

"The Kennex I knew was selfish and careless, and he got his whole team killed. He's still like that, just with a little humility attached to him - literally." Paul gave a short laugh, folding his arms. "I tell you one thing; that synthetic has been the best thing for him. It keeps him in line and out of my way."

Dorian felt irritated, to say the least. "John can be distant, blunt, and difficult to understand. However, he doesn't let his shortcomings define him, and he works hard in the cases he's given. His negative interactions are only because he's been provoked - one characteristic of his you seem to be finely in-tune with. You've never really given yourself the chance to get to know him, have you?"

Detective Paul didn't respond. He only looked out the window in annoyance, then decided to check on things outside. He took his radio in hand and said, "Sandra, how are we doing? Anything from the other locations?"

_"Nothing yet, Richard. I'll - hold on." _The line went dead for a beat, then Sandra returned, sounding alarmed. _"Richard, move out, he's at - "_

BOOM!

It had happened so fast, too fast for even Dorian. An explosion went off from a nearby car, impressive enough to send hot metal at anything and everything around it. People were hitting the ground left and right, screaming and covering their heads. A few had been too close to it, and they flew back from the aftershock. Paul was already out of the car before his partner could protest, gun raised at any threat that dared show its face. Dorian also stepped out, but he continued to look for John. No one seemed to be moving in, but something was wrong with this. He tapped into the radio at the station and said, "Captain Maldonado?"

_"Dorian, what's going on?"_

"There was an explosion. I don't see anyone here; it could be a set up."

_"I think you're right. Group B just confirmed John's location - same introduction, same group of men."_

The DRN quickly programmed the address. "Is he far?"

_"I'm not sure. I'm sorry, Dorian; is everyone all right? Are there casualties?"_

"I believe so. Please send a medical team and ambulance here right away." Paul was in the center of the crowd, checking on various people. Dorian hurried over to him, glanced at the burning wreckage again, then said, "Detective, they've located John."

"Yeah, well, this really isn't the time - "

"Richard," Dorian pressed, placing a hand on the man's shoulders. He paused to look at the DRN, a little bewildered. "This may be the only time. If I go now, I may be able to catch up with him - he's already left the scene." Dorian knew he wasn't really following the rules, not waiting for backup, but there was no immediate danger here. Paul seemed to understand that as well, and nodded in obvious frustration.

"Yeah, okay, go find him. If you don't nab him in the next fifteen minutes, you get back here and make yourself useful."

With a generous time limit given, Dorian bolted off down the street. He closed in on the address in over half the time, and found more chaos in his midst. The suspects had already moved out, leaving their victims shaken. He found the first group of officers he could, identified himself, and asked if they'd seen John. One of them pointed west, so Dorian thanked him and continued on his way. He wasn't finding any bio-readings, so he started scanning the path for every synthetic within range. As he passed various MX models, he finally picked up what he was looking for - and it was in a hurry. Turning the corner, he found a familiar being sprinting down the side street, and picked up the pace.

"John!"

He'd called the name out of habit, but he already knew that his theory was proven. The figure also sped up, but with one final lunge, it collapsed in a heap as Dorian tackled it. It was terribly robotic, with jerky movements as it tried to continue its course. Dorian flipped it over easily, and stared for a moment. He felt relief that he'd been right, but the uncertainty of John's location worried Dorian.

The robot blinked, slowing its struggle. "Let go, you hunk of metal," it snapped.

Dorian raised an eyebrow. "You're not him, but you could be. Who's responsible for this fine workmanship, I wonder?" He had to act quickly. Hacking the system was as easy as changing a password, and before 'John' could utter another word, the robot became still. Someone had to have been at the controls, but now they couldn't do a thing. All that was left was for Rudy to take a look at it, and finally solve the mystery.

* * *

_I just wanted to take a sec and say you guys are so awesome for reading, and for the reviews! This has become my most popular story, and in such a short amount of time (mind is blown). _


	5. Chapter Five

**Author Note: **I got a day off, so you get an update! Yay! Enjoy the chapter, it's a good one!

* * *

Chapter Five

* * *

John woke himself with a cough. He turned onto his side, trying to get comfortable again. The room was freezing, meaning it was early, so he shuffled farther under his thin blanket. How long had it been? John was beginning to lose track of time in his windowless, soundless room, and it was exhausting. He finally opened his eyes, pulled the covers aside, and began his routine for the day. As he washed up, he tried to run some water over his cuffed wrist. It had begun to chafe days before, and now the skin was raw to the point of bleeding. John had already given up trying to slide his way out, because he knew that losing another limb just wasn't worth it.

Clari hadn't come by to bring him his synthetic. Not that it really mattered at this point - it was being given less and less a charge every time. Clari herself hadn't been around as often, busy with whatever secret plan she and her brother were carrying out. She was starting to look tired and edgy, but she was still polite with him. John asked her questions every day, but he never could get much information out of her on what she was doing. He knew from her answers that she was just a normal girl, trying to make sense of things, and she wanted this whole thing to be over.

Another hour or so passed. John was sitting with his head propped against the bed frame, his hands resting on his stomach. He'd about dozed off again when the door opened, and in walked Tyson. It was unexpected, so John didn't move from his spot. The younger man looked agitated, and he had a gun in his hand. "Morning, Detective," he snapped.

"Something wrong?" John asked carefully.

Tyson closed the door behind him, then locked it. "I gotta tell you, your coworkers are smart."

"I could agree with that."

"After all the planning and effort put into this, I can't believe I overlooked one little detail." Tyson leaned against the door, examining his gun with amusement. Then he looked back up at John. "Your partner is a DRN. I remember when those guys were everywhere; pleasant-looking cops. They're smart, too, smarter than the MX models."

John couldn't help the smile on his lips. "Yeah, I'll agree with that, too. Seems like we're more alike than we thought, Tyson."

Tyson's face sobered up a bit. "No, we're not, but that's not the point. I came here to tell you about what I've been up to, before I finally kill you. As Clari has told me just about every day, you _deserve _to know."

John gave a shrug. "Go ahead. I freed up my afternoon just for you."

Tyson only nodded, looking a little bitter. From his pocket he pulled a folded piece of paper, and handed it to John. On it was written a single date, and after a beat, John recognized it. He looked up at Tyson and frowned questioningly, and the young man smiled. "Now the gears are turning. You remember that day, don't you?"

"What does it have to do with you? The raid wasn't - "

"It had everything to do with me, _and_ my sister!" Tyson yelled. "That raid took place in our complex, and it got my parents and several of our neighbors killed. It nearly killed Clari, too - she spent months not only recovering physically, but emotionally. Because of you - the leader - we've suffered for two years."

John felt a flare of anger, and humiliation from the sudden exposure. "Kid, I lost a lot, too, and I was just doing my job! I never killed anyone in that complex - I was a little too busy trying not to get blown up!"

Silently, Tyson holstered the gun and sprang forward. He trapped John's uncuffed hand, and wrapped his own around John's throat. "If I was finished with everything, I'd kill you now." He pinned John's left leg under him and tightened his grip, and watched as the cop's eyes began to roll. He gasped for air he couldn't have, and tried to free himself in vain. He was weakened, tired, and his muscles hadn't been given the exercise he was used to.

"Tyson?" A male voice called. "We've got a problem with the, uh, appliance."

"What's wrong with it?" Tyson yelled.

A pause. "Uh, well, it's back online," the voice hinted, not willing to give more information. Tyson sighed, and in one fluid movement he'd stepped off the bed. He looked one last time at John, who was still coughing and heaving, then shut the door behind him and locked it. Outside, Drew was waiting for him, looking anxious.

"Who turned it on?" Tyson asked as they walked.

Drew only shrugged. "It's at the police station; they tried to talk to it."

"Have they tracked it at all?"

"No. I jammed it the best I could, but that means limited functionality. You can talk back, if you want. Or, you can detonate it - we're nearly done with the finances."

Tyson entered his room, observing the monitor. The bot faced a glass wall, and several cops could be seen walking around, attending their duties. "We'll see. If I have to, I will, but there are other ways out of this. Do me a favor, though," he faced Drew, still feeling the itch he'd had before, "keep Kennex some 'company'. Lock the door, and if my sister tries to get in, ignore her."

Drew frowned. "Why would she be a problem?"

"Just do it, okay? She's been a little uppity lately." He waved his hand dismissively, and once alone he took his seat at the computer. He took a calming breath, put on the headset, and moved the camera around. To his right, no one, but to his left, a familiar face stared back. It was the DRN that had tackled the bot yesterday. "I remember you."

"Who are you?"

Tyson smiled. "I'm John Kennex."

The droid seemed a little unsettled. "You're not, but your creator obviously put a lot of thought into you. The date of your model is hard to place, because your parts were installed at different times. The most recent was your vocal output, installed exactly two weeks ago. That was one day after my partner was kidnapped."

Tyson made the bot nod, and said, "You're a smart DRN. What do you plan to do with me?"

"I've already tried to isolate the transmission, but I've been unsuccessful. Why don't you tell me what you want?"

"That's personal business, Drone. You won't get what you want out of me, so if you don't mind - "

The DRN looked up suddenly when a knock sounded. Tyson turned the camera, finding a woman entering cautiously. "How is it going?" She asked.

"Fine, Captain. 'John' just woke up, and we're talking. I believe someone is on the other end, speaking for him; it's not just an automated system."

The woman looked down at him, and sighed heavily. "This is...surreal. Have you been able to get any answers from him?"

Tyson cleared his throat. "Now, Captain, don't speak about me like I'm not here. I'm insulted."

She raised an eyebrow. "Looks like we'll skip the formalities. What's happened to John? What do you want that you're doing this to him?"

"I don't have to answer your questions," Tyson replied.

The Captain took a seat in front of him, crossing one leg over the other. "True. However, if you're willing to negotiate, we're here to do that. What is it you want?"

"I already have what I want. I'm pleased you were able to see my invention before I got rid of it; it's pretty great, isn't it?" He looked at the DRN, who had a fallen expression on his face. "What's wrong, android?"

The DRN thought before answering. His face had blue lines trailing all along the side, telling Tyson that he was still attempting to pinpoint the source of the transmission. "I just have one question."

"What's that?"

"...Is John all right? Is he with you?"

The bot smiled. "I can't tell you that last part, but he's still alive. For now," Tyson added. He turned off the speakers, stepped away from the computer, and opened the door. In the room with the money, he found the guys counting each stack and placing it carefully around them. "How much do we need?"

Chase, the one closest to him, looked up with a smile. "We're just double-checking now, but we have it all, from what we counted."

Tyson sighed quietly in relief, and a huge feeling of accomplishment washed over him. "Finally. Let me know when you're done, but even if we're still missing a few bucks, I can take care of it." He closed the door and moved back into the computer room. He typed in the access code for the self-destruct, then held the microphone to his lips a final time.

"Goodbye, DRN."

* * *

"Drew, open up!"

"I'm busy!"

"Hey, don't shoot the messenger! Tyson wants to talk to you, like, right now!"

Drew gave a sharp look at the door, wiping the blood from his knuckles. "If you're lying?"

Clari sighed audibly. "Okay, well, don't say I didn't warn you when he comes to find you - all ticked off!" She waited another minute, and finally the door flew open. Drew looked upset, to say the least.

"What's that for?" He motioned to the synthetic she carried in her arms.

"This is his. I always bring it back when it's done charging."

"Hm. Well, don't try anything funny. Tyson said you've been getting weird."

Clari only shrugged, then she stepped forward. Drew stood in her way, and she glared up at him. "Move it. This is getting heavy."

He finally stepped out into the hall, and stalked down the hall without another word. Clari walked into the room, finding John hunched over in pain. She set the leg on the bed, closed the door, and locked it behind her. "What a jerk," she muttered.

John held one hand to his face, which seemed to be getting more swollen by the minute. His nose was bleeding, and his left eye was shut and already turning purple. "Hey," he said. "You wouldn't happen to have a bandaid, would you?"

"Something like that." Clari sat down next to him. She'd had a small box with her that Drew had overlooked, next to the synthetic she'd carried. She now had it in her lap, and she deposited next to him. "Put your running feet on, and hurry."

"What are you talking about?" He eyed the box warily, so she opened it. Inside was a bottle of peroxide and cloth wipes.

"I'm risking my neck, so I can fix a mistake."

He'd had to rip the leg of his pants when he'd come here, for easy attachment. John took his leg and aligned it; The synthetic told him there was a full charge, and he looked back up at Clari. "What...?"

She sighed. "Listen. My brother told you everything, didn't he? About why he brought you here "

"Yeah, he might have mentioned it. Clari, I want you to know that I never - "

She held up a hand. "I know, I know. The raid wasn't...your fault, and I've realized that because of these last couple of weeks. It's been hell, and I can't take feeling like I used to. I was so mad at everything, at you, at the police...look, I don't have time to explain it all. I need to get you out of here, back to your partner, and get this whole thing over with. Take the med kit with you, get cleaned up when you're safe." From her pocket she pulled out another key, reached over to the cuffs, and unlocked them.

John let his hand sit limp for a moment, feeling relief of being able to move that arm again. He stood, stuffed the kit into his shirt, and followed to the door. She unlocked it, placed a hand to her lips, and inched it opened. "Okay," she whispered, "I don't have a gun. So if they shoot at you, I can't help you. I can show you the way out, so be quick."

They hurried down the opposite end of the hall, and into another room. It was an empty, large space, perhaps once used for a lobby. Claire led him down a set of stairs at the other end, which they slipped under once at the bottom. There was a hidden door cut into the wall, and a ladder leading down. She let John go first, and ushered him when he took his time. He looked at her with a bit of annoyance. "I've been a little bedridden, so I apologize for my lack of endurance."

She rolled her eyes. "I'll push you if I have to, so get going!"

Somewhere above them, a door slammed. John decided not to stretch his luck and jumped the rest of the way. He landed in a heap, and lost the way from the light as Clari closed the door. She stepped onto the ladder, closed the hatch door, and hopped down next to him. He was still trying to get to his feet, so she helped him as the sound of yelling reached their ears. "Are they going to catch up?"

Clari didn't answer, only hurried over to the right wall of the long pathway. There was another door blended in, and she slid it to the side and waved him in. "Just keep going, and don't stop until you hit the stairs. From there, go left, and head all the way to the door. Your partner should be waiting for you there."

"Dorian? He knows?"

"He was trying to track you, but my brother wouldn't let him from the line he was using. I was on my computer at the same time, so he had my location down. I talked to him right before you - " She stopped, because the door to the ladder was being opened. "Go!" She hissed. "Just get out, and don't get caught!" She shoved him, and closed the door. Her footsteps continued down the hall, and John heard her yell, "Get back here!"

John wanted just one second to really process what had happened, but he didn't have the time. He hurried off down the narrow path, his limbs already aching and heavy. He tripped on the stairs and fell at the landing, groaning in pain. What a nightmare this had been; he'd spent all this time waiting, and now he was literally walking to his freedom, simple as that. He hauled himself to his feet and turned left, running as fast as his heavy legs would let him. There was a single door waiting for him at the end of the hall, which he practically rammed to get through. On the other side was an alley, and another building wall met him painfully as his feet kept moving. He slammed into the brick, grunting with the effort to stop, and he collapsed onto ground. No one seemed to be following him, so he kicked the door closed and took deep, grateful breaths of air. He looked to the sky and suddenly felt like crying; he was out, alive, and Dorian was waiting for him. He opened his eyes. "Dorian."

Someone in the universe must have loved him, because a light rain fell as he limped down the alley. Normally that sort of weather bothered him, but today was different. Yesterday he'd been ready to face death, and now he was still around the feel the droplets on his face. When he reached the end, he faltered at the end of the sidewalk; no one was there. To his left, the street was empty - was it still early? - and to his right...

It was a sight for his incredibly sore eyes. He took another deep breath, trying to keep his emotions under control, and started walking over to the group waiting for him. First he saw Sandra, who had a hand over her chest. She was shaking her head, and she pulled out her radio to say something. Valerie was next to her, and as John got closer, he could see that she had tears in her eyes. He looked behind him one more time, somewhat hopeful that Clari was there. She had a lot of explaining to do, and he wasn't sure if she was going to get that chance. John turned forward again, and his eyes landed on the final person there.

Dorian met him halfway, and when they reached each other, he placed his hands on John's shoulders. He seemed to have multiple expressions passing over his face as he finally said, "Are you all right, John? You look terrible."

John smiled at him and said, "I never thought I'd say it, but I missed you, man."


	6. Chapter Six - Afterward

**Author Note: **I wanted to update this quickly with the next one, because I had it planned out a certain way in my head and didn't want to forget it. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter Six - Afterward

* * *

The police car pulled into the station around six o clock at night, and the driver took a loud sigh of relief as he parked into his spot. The passenger smiled and looked over at him. "That was the last of it, John. Starting tomorrow, your week's vacation begins."

John rested his head against the seat and closed his eyes. "It couldn't be here fast enough." He'd been released from the hospital three days ago, and since then he'd been talking to news stations and two other precinct Captains involved in his case. It seemed his own had been involved in a little scare with the Kennex robot he hadn't even known existed. Dorian had been kind enough to show him the news stories, and told him that he'd stopped the android from taking out half the station by self-destruction. It had been a close call, and John was just glad it was over. Most of the money that his doppelganger had stolen was returned to the places it had originated from. The part that Tyson had collected previously went to other organizations, and even a few people who had been traced back to the finances.

"Are you sure you're all right with the added security at your place?" Dorian asked as they walked.

John shrugged. Sandra had been prompt on keeping two MX's stationed outside his door, ready for another threat. "I'm going to have to be. I stay inside most of the day, they stay out, so we get along. Why do you ask?"

"You looked tired, that's all. I wondered if they were hassling you about safety - they're worse than me, if you can believe it."

John looked at him and laughed, then patted him on the shoulder. "You got that right. I'm fine, I've just been...thinking a lot at night."

"About the experience?"

"Yeah. Something like that," he replied, and it seemed to be all he wanted to say.

Dorian nodded, leaving the matter there. He opened the door for them, and the two headed in to start their day. A few people glanced their way, greeting them quickly before passing. Both John and Dorian had become quite popular from the incident, and they handled it by giving brief nods and going on their way. John reached his desk first, and found a queasy display of notes on it. He still needed to talk to a lot of people, the families of the recent victims, for one - and he hoped that none were hateful. It wasn't what he wanted to deal with, but it had to be done.

"Kennex."

John turned, mildly surprised to see Paul. Not that it was any different, but he hadn't yet been approached by his coworker. Dorian had explained that he had worked with Richard in John's absence, and he hadn't sounded enthusiastic admitting to it. John hadn't said anything, but his partner's discomfort from the other man secretly made him happy. "What can I do for you, Richard?"

Paul looked up at him, and in one movement surprised both John and Dorian. He stuck his hand out and said, "Welcome back."

"...Thanks, Richard. Why the change of heart?" John extended his own hand, grasping the other firmly.

Paul made a face. "Don't push it, I'm being serious. I wasn't exactly thrilled seeing you on the news like that, but I...was wrong. Dorian had more faith in you, and as it turned out, he was more than right."

John pulled away, and gave a short nod. "Well, in your defense, it didn't look great, from the camera's point of view. I don't hold anything against you."

Paul placed his hands in his pocket, and glanced at Dorian. "You did a pretty good job, and you saved a lot of lives, Dorian."

"I appreciate that, Detective Paul."

An awkward silence fell between the three men, so John finally cleared his throat. "Well, I think we've made a lot of progress today. Why don't we reserve this little session for another time? Captain Maldonado wants to talk to us, so we'll leave you, Richard. If anyone calls, just let me know. I'll get to everyone as soon as I can."

Sandra was dealing with a phone call of her own as John and Dorian waited outside her office. She buzzed them in and invited them to sit, still talking into the speaker. "Yes, I understand. Uh-huh, I have him right here, actually. He's feeling much better, I'll let him know. Okay, goodbye." She hung up, and rubbed a hand over her forehead. "What a nightmare."

"Everything all right, Sandra?"

"Yeah, it's fine. This entire mess is going to get cleaned up, but it shouldn't have happened in the first place. I'm just...sorry you two have been involved so heavily."

"I'd like to apologize to you," John replied. "The case with Insyndicate seems to be unraveling all the time, and it's really because of me."

She shook her head. "No, John - "

He held up a hand. "What I mean is, I hold a lot of responsibility toward a lot of people. I was careless with that raid, and it's cost for everyone. It'll get worked out, like you said."

Sandra gave him a long, hard look. "I understand, but don't you dare blame yourself for it. I know you've been trying to get caught up with what's happened, but you shouldn't carry that burden alone. Am I clear?" She raised her eyebrows, and he laughed quietly.

"Aye, Aye. Listen, I'd like to take care of something today, with your permission."

"What is it?"

"I'd like to speak to Clari. She's still being held here, isn't she?"

"...Are you sure you want to do that?"

"If you give me the 'okay', I'd like to. I need to ask her a few things, and...she did save my life."

Sandra closed her eyes. "...All right, fine. I don't understand you, John."

Dorian smiled and looked over. "No one does, Captain."

The one thing John had most been looking forward to was talking to the young girl who'd saved him. She and her brother, along with everyone involved in the crimes had been taken into custody. All of them had officially confessed, and their trail would be held in three days. Clari was still at the station being questioned, so John wanted to take the opportunity while he could. He was escorted by a fellow officer down to the cubes, and found her sitting alone in her cell.

"How's she doing?" He asked.

The officer shook his head. "A wreck. She's telling us everything, but she'd not happy about it and she seems...conflicted. Do you want someone in there with you?"

"No. I'll be out in ten."

The door buzzed, and John stepped into the quiet room. Clari was sitting on her bed, cuffed with her eyes to the ground. She noticed his presence and glanced at him, then away again. "Hi." She said it quietly, barely above a whisper.

"Hey, Clari. How are you?"

She shrugged. "All things considered...I feel terrible."

John sat next to her, the action surprising him for a moment. He'd done it without thinking, like it was the most normal thing to do. This time, they'd switched places, but he was still the one asking questions. "Talk to me. You did a very selfless thing, you know."

She sighed. "I'm not upset being here. I've expected this for a long time, but...I don't understand why I did it, either. We worked so hard, you know?" She looked up at him, and he saw the tears in her eyes. "We just wanted to rebuild what we'd lost, and no one would help us. We had to do it all by ourselves, and we were just about done with it. No one would have questioned where the money came from, and people would have had their lives back. There are so many of our friends and neighbors still trying to recover from the raid."

John clasped his hands together, and rested his arms comfortably on his legs. "I never got the chance to really apologize to you. We involved a lot of people in our gun fight, trying to get the bad guys, and we hurt them more than helped them. I wish I could go back and fix it all, but I can't."

Clari sniffled, and wiped her eyes with her thumb. "Tyson never should have trusted me with you. He was so mad at me when he'd found out. I developed a conscience at the absolute wrong time, and all of our work was ruined. You know what the weird part is? I don't really care anymore, and I'm not...mad at you anymore. I realized that you're a good cop, and that you're just trying to move on with your life. You've struggled just as much as we have, and you've been alone."

Without thinking, John reached out and took her hand. He looked at her and smiled, and said, "I think you've been alone, too. Your brother is family, and he's been hurt, too. However, sometimes we get so caught up in how hurt we feel, and all we want to do is hold onto that. Tyson doesn't want to forgive, because he'll lose everything he's built on. He wanted you to hold onto that, because it's so much easier."

She nodded and laughed. "Yeah, it is easy. Sometimes I do want to stay angry. I don't know how to feel, but...I guess forgiveness is a start. Being angry takes too much out of me anymore. Listen, I...wanted to tell you something before they transfer me, because I want you to know."

"Go for it."

Clari paused, taking a deep breath. "A few days before I helped you out, I kept having this...nightmare. I came into your room with my brother, and I had a gun. Things were going wrong with our plans, it was falling apart, and...I couldn't take it anymore. Tyson kept egging me on, and you looked up at me...you asked me 'Who are you?', and you said it, like, you didn't understand which side I was on."

"You felt you were losing yourself," John offered, and Clari nodded.

"It's exactly how I was feeling when I was awake. I was conflicted between helping you and helping my brother, and I didn't know who I was. You looked at me with sympathy, and it just made it worse. So, I decided to shoot you, and...I did. Then I'd wake up in tears, and I just didn't understand."

"Clari," John began, still holding her hand, "you made the right choice. I'm not saying this because I was involved. If it'd been someone else, anyone, you still made the right decision letting go. You were very brave, and you accepted the consequences. I think you understand what you need to do, and that person in your dreams isn't you. That girl is just...the dark stuff in your heart, the stuff everyone deals with. How we act defines us, and when we do the right thing, we feel better and we become better."

That seemed to touch her, and fresh tears sprang into her eyes. "Thank you, John. I'm so sorry you went through this."

He shook his head. "It's helped me to appreciate a lot of things, so, I owe you one." He smiled, patted her hand, and stood. "Listen, I have to go, but I want to tell _you _something. I want to help the people in your apartment complex somehow. I need to talk to my boss about it, but I want to do something to make it better. I'll come visit you when I can, to let you know how it's going."

She looked at him, a little taken aback. "You...You'll do that?"

"Yes. I want to make things right, and that's a good place to start, don't you think?"

Clari seemed at a loss for words. She'd nodded without a word, and had been overcome with emotion. John, not sure what to do, had gently bid her farewell with another promise to visit. He didn't think that her sentence would be too serious, compared to her brother and the others; he hoped she would be there to see the progress made. In all honesty, he wasn't sure what Captain Maldonado could do, but if he couldn't get approval through her, he would try to do something else.

"How did it go?" Dorian asked, once John was with him again. They were heading down to the lab to see Rudy, the last person John hadn't really managed to speak to yet.

"It was...all right. She's going to be okay, with the right help."

"And you're all right?"

He looked wryly at Dorian and laughed. "Hey, what did I say?"

"Okay, okay. Bleeding heart here, remember?"

"Right." John opened the door to the lab and walked in. "Rudy, you here?"

He found Doctor Lom working diligently, but the man stopped at John's voice. He looked at him in surprise, then realized something. "Oh, it's about time, isn't it? I've been going mad wondering about you!"

John smiled and held up his hands. "Hey, Rudy, relax. I'm sorry I haven't come to see you - it's been so hectic. How've you been?"

"Like I said, crazy. I saw you wandering around the station a few times, but you looked busy. I just...I'm glad to have the real you back. Well, we have the real you, and your friend." He stepped aside, and enjoyed John's reaction as he noticed the robot on the table. It was the Kennex-bot, shut down for good and lying lifeless in the work table. John frowned and leaned in a little.

"So this is the stud who's been causing trouble. They really did do a good job."

"Captain Maldonado has ordered that I take the parts and recycle what I can, and scrap the rest. It's a shame, though, because it really is a work of art."

John stepped back and grinned. "Thanks, Rudy, I didn't know you liked me so much."

Rudy gave him an amused look, then shut off the light over the table. "Today is over, so if you'll follow me, John, Dorian needs his rest and so do I."

John didn't leave right away. He looked at his partner and shook his head. "Three days, and already you're stuck with Richard again."

Dorian shrugged. "Perhaps I'll learn something new this time; he seemed to see things in a different light, and I appreciate that. If you need anything, don't hesitate to let me know. Will you be at the trial?"

John wasn't sure. "I'll...think about it. For now, I'll see you two in a week. Don't get into trouble without me, you here?"

The car ride was quiet on the way home. The MX with John wasn't much for conversation, unless it was about his duties to keep the Detective safe from the outside dangers. John left him at the door, locked it up, and headed straight to bed.

* * *

_Annnd there we have it! Did you like it? Thank you again for reading, I had a lot of fun writing this, and the support has been fantastic!_


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